Peace and Quiet
by Virusgod
Summary: Too long has a corrupt Ministry ruled.  Too long have the Death Eaters killed without fear.  But now, three people decide enough is enough.  That they must fight fire with fire.  And they won't be alone.
1. Para Bellum

Disclaimer: I don't own this. Rowling does. Don't sue me._  
_

_In time our realm will shine again. But it will gleam only_

_when we scour away the taint of doubt._

**Peace and Quiet**

**Chapter 1: Para Bellum**

Harry sat quietly at the kitchen table of Number Four, Privet Drive, eyes narrowed, as he glared angrily at the paper before him. Gods, how could Scrimgeour be so idiotic. He threw the paper down on the table in frustration, the bold title staring up at him.

**Minister Declares Martial Law!**

_Article by Nigellus Waters_

_In response to the panic and turmoil that swept the country following the funeral of Albus Dumbledore, the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, has declared a state of Martial Law. For those too young to remember, the last time martial law was declared was during the war against the dark lord Grindelwald, who's alliance with the muggle Adolf Hitler spread destruction and death across both magical and muggle Europe._

_What does it mean? The moment the declaration was ratified by the Wizengamot, Ministry Aurors were granted blanket license to arrest anyone suspected of being Dark Magic users, or affiliated with such. Anyone so arrested no longer has a right to trial, the Ministry can hold anyone so convicted for as long as the state of martial law persists. _

_In response to this declaration, Aurors stormed Knockturn Alley, sweeping through, arresting any who resisted or were suspect._

_As an addition to the Martial Law bill, the Wizengamot also passed a law against Dark Creatures of all sorts. Any hags, werewolves, vampires, giants, or other dark creatures affiliated with You-Know-Who who are spotted will immediately be arrested and sent to one of the Ministry's newly established Prison Camps._

_This reporter, for one, is relieved that finally the Ministry is taking action to protect the wizarding populace from harm._

_For an exact reading of the Martial Law bill, see page 12. For information on how to spot Dark Creatures, see page 15. _

Something deep inside him broke, hatred and rage bubbling up inside him and his hand instinctively grabbed for a knife sitting on the table and slamming it down onto the moving picture of the Minister.

He stood, pacing angrily, looking repeatedly at the clock on the wall. 11:05 pm. Pigwidgeon had been the one to deliver the paper about twenty minutes earlier. He'd immediately skimmed the story, before sending back a reply with the tiny owl.

It was July 30th. The paper was already two days old. Ron hadn't sent it on time. He'd been to busy, too worried. Two days. Two days since William Weasley, despite having only trace elements of the werewolf curse in his blood, had been arrested. He'd spent almost a month healing, and on the day he finally was able to walk again, to take a trip to Diagon Alley to get fitted for dress robes for his wedding, had been snatched up when Auror detection spells had named him a dark creature. He'd done no wrong, yet was arrested for the label of being 'dark'. That thought echoed in Harry's head over and over, and he couldn't help but wonder, how many others, who had never done an evil act in their life, had, over the course of wizarding history, been imprisoned or persecuted for knowing 'Dark' magic, or being 'Dark'.

Remus Lupin, Harry's last real connection with his parents had vanished as well, no one knowing if he'd gone into hiding, or been arrested. If he'd gone into hiding...surely he'd have made some effort to contact them though, yet they'd heard nothing.

Harry swore, fingers clenched tightly around his wand as he paced. A month. Despite his earlier decisions, despite all his plans he'd still let himself be talked into remaining at the Dursley's for a month. A month of sitting there, doing the exact opposite of what he'd wanted, sworn, to be doing. He'd wasted a month, but no more.

Two sudden bursts of sound and air displacing from behind him caused him to spin, bringing his wand up, then lowering it when he saw who was there.

"About damn time you two showed up," He growled, gesturing for them to take a seat at the table.

"Sorry Mate," Ron answered, taking a seat. "Had to wait for Mum to go to bed so she wouldn't catch us leaving."

Hermione smiled faintly at him, although the smile didn't reach her eyes. Harry watched her pull up the chair next to Ron's and take a seat, before she looked towards the doorway and back at him, eyebrow raised in question.

"Dursleys aren't here, they're on vacation," Harry answered to the unasked question.

She nodded, and opened her mouth to speak,

"Harry, I-"

"What the hell was that idiot thinking?" Harry blurted out, interrupting her. He'd been holding in this rant for long enough. "Does he have any idea what he's bloody done?"

Ron snorted, frowning as he looked up at him.

"In his own words, he's '_protecting the people,'" _came Ron's sarcastic reply.

"He's practically _forcing_ any unaligned werewolves or other creatures into Voldemort's scaly arms!" Harry exclaimed. "They now have a choice. Imprisonment and probably death, or ally with Voldemort, which may not be better by much, but they won't care."

Hermione nodded, anger at the injustice visible in her eyes.

"Scrimgeour's stupidity...he's-" she began, before Harry cut her off again.

"He's giving Voldemort a bloody army, is what he's doing. Voldemort's probably sitting at home laughing his ass off, while recruits pour in."

Harry growled again, punching the table hard in frustration.

"He's an idiot," Ron said softly, "and worse, he's an idiot in power,"

"He's an idiot in power, with martial law justifying any action he makes," Hermione added, "making him untouchable."

"I'm not waiting any longer," Harry stated after a long moment of silence. "Voldemort...he's only half the problem. The other half is the wizarding world itself."

He glanced over to Ron briefly after saying this, to gauge his reaction.

Ron smirked at him, nodding. "No argument here, I agree with you."

"For too long the magical world has stagnated. Tradition and pureblood isolationism is making it rot from the inside out. The vast majority of the wizarding world are sheep, begging to be told what to do by the Prophet, the Ministry, anyone. They don't think for themselves, they don't _fight_ for themselves. They just sit there and expect someone else to do it for them. The vast majority think that Wizards are the top of the world, and no other race are as important. They alienate any who could be potential allies, driving them away." Harry said, breathing deeply.

"So what do you propose to do?" Hermione asked.

"Fix it," Harry said simply. "The wizarding world has three main problems. Voldemort, the Ministry, and the Sheep themselves. It's time to fix the problem. Take out Voldemort, bring down the corrupt and prejudiced ministry, and open the Sheep's eyes to truth."

* * *

Outside the house on Privet Drive, a pair of figures stood silently, veiled and cloaked in shadow by a magic older by far then what is taught in the halls of Hogwarts. 

One of them smiled upon hearing the words spoke within the house.

"_And so he names his Quest."_

* * *

"It's going to take a lot of work," Harry said, continuing. "It's not going to be easy. There is going to be opposition every step of the way, and it's going to involve doing things that many people will label as wrong, as dark, simply out of their own ignorance. Magic is not light or dark. It's what you do with it that makes it right or wrong. What is Dark Magic, if used for good? If used against corruption, against prejudice, against evil?" 

Ron and Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, before nodding in understanding.

"Use of what is called dark magic itself doesn't make you evil," Ron said finally, "it's what you do with it that defines you."

Harry nodded.

"So I need to know, here and now, if you're with me," he said, looking between them. "If you are there is no turning back. We will change this world. We will right the wrongs of society, or die in the attempt. I'm going to do anything, learn anything I must, to right those wrongs. To avenge those innocents killed by wars and prejudice. So now I ask you, are you with me?"

"They took Bill," Ron said softly. "They took him and we've no idea where. He was injured fighting _against_ Death Eaters and now they label him as worse? There's no justice in that. I'm with you Harry. I want to avenge my brother, and any others like him."

"The politics of the wizarding world are corrupt," Hermione said. "I've looked into it. Did you know that in the past hundred years, the Ministry has never hired a muggle-born? The Pureblood grip on political power is too strong, they're all too busy caring about keeping themselves in power, keeping their traditions going, that they are blind to change and innovation. I'm with you Harry, whatever it takes. The Ministry does more harm then good, the way it stands. Lets fix that.

"So be it then," Harry said quietly, reaching out a hand between them. "Thanks guys. With you with me, we can change the world, I'm sure of it."

Ron nodded seriously, laying a hand on top of Harry's. Moments later, Hermione's lay atop his. As their hands touched, all three felt a surge of magic flash between them, then fade away.

* * *

Outside, the two figures continued to watch, and this time both stood a little straighter, a little prouder, as they felt the Old Magic seal the pact between the three inside. 

"_And so he names his Captains."_

They both turned then, as they noticed movement on the street. One began to reach for a weapon, but the other shook his head, indicating that they were only there to observe, at least for now.

* * *

"So where do we start?" Ron asked. 

"We have to get out from under the grip of the Order," Harry said, "they won't let us do what needs to be done. We need to train, we need to learn more if we're going to succeed. But we can research while we train, to find other horcruxes, and anything else we need."

"Harry," Hermione said before pausing briefly, "I can't believe what I'm about to say, this goes against everything I feel I should believe in."

"What Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Well...part of the problem with the way the war has been going, and I don't mean to insult Dumbledore by saying this, but he made the mistake as well, is the belief that Death Eaters deserve a second chance. Dumbledore believed in the good in people. But they've made their choice. The Ministry, they imprison them, but then Voldemort just breaks them out again, and they start killing again."

She paused, taking a deep breath, almost to reassure herself, before continuing.

"If it will stop even a single innocent being killed, then morally speaking, we can show no mercy to our enemies. They're trying to kill us. They're trying to kill countless innocents. If they try to kill us...we should try just as hard to kill them right back. This is a war, we should treat it as such."

Both Ron and Harry looked speechless at Hermione for a moment. Oh, they'd both thought something similar, but the fact that _she_ was the one to bring it up.

"You're right, of course." Harry said after regaining his composure. "No mercy in a fight. Don't hold back. Take a stunner for instance. You stun a Death Eater. All it takes is three syllables, enn-er-vate, and that enemy is back in the fight."

"Hit em with a cutting curse to the neck," Ron said bluntly, "then they won't get back up. Ever."

Harry nodded. "As the muggles say, we should start thinking outside the box. Use spells they won't expect to bring them down."

A loud explosion suddenly rocked the house, and all three immediately dropped to the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Ron whispered, looking around in confusion.

"Sounds like someone bringing down the wards," Hermione muttered, as she moved near the doorway into the hallway and took a peak. "Yup, speak of the devil, looks like we've got company."

Harry swore, then gestured to them. "Must have been Snape, he knew about this place. Look, they don't know you two are here-"

"We're not leaving Harry," Ron said bluntly, and Hermione nodded vigorously.

Harry smiled faintly, before taking up a position near the stove, wand pointed towards the doorway to the hallway.

"I'm not saying leave, I'm saying element of surprise. They think it's just me here,' He said, smirking. "Let's make them regret that assumption. Disillusion yourselves, and try and get behind em."

Both nodded, both tapping themselves on the forehead, and Harry had to look hard tell them apart from the wall behind them. He could tell they were there, but only because he knew it. He blinked, and then couldn't find them, indicating they'd moved through the doorway into the living room.

Moments later he heard the front door crash back against the wall, as the Death Eaters charged in.

"Spread out, check around. He'll have heard the wards come down, so be ready," Harry didn't recognize the voice, but it didn't matter.

He heard footsteps going up the stairs, and raised his wand. He heard the cupboard under the stairs door creak open, then get slammed shut. Moments later the first dark shrouded figure rounded the door from the hall.

"_Diffindo_," Harry snapped, and didn't wait to see if it hit, rolling to the side to avoid any response. It was a good thing he did, as his severing charm was absorbed by a shield, and an unknown black spell slammed into the cupboard behind where he'd just been. The wood that made up the cupboard door instantly started to rot at an extremely fast speed, and Harry was quite glad he'd not been hit by that one.

Thinking fast, he jabbed his wand towards the opposite wall, summoning a large knife from the counter. In mid-air, he switched from a summoning charm to a banishing, and sent the knife flying at the Death Eater. This time he was rewarded with the fleshy sound of it hitting flesh, and saw the blade was embedded to the handle in the throat of the Death Eater, just under his white mask.

He barely got a Protego up in time to deflect a stunning spell that came shooting at him from the living room. He started to raise his wand to send a return spell when a Death Eater came stumbling into the kitchen, crashing down onto the kitchen table, knocking it over as he fell to the ground. Harry could barely restrain a laugh. The Death Eater's back was pin-cushioned with glowing silver arrows. He didn't even want to know why a Chudley Cannons supporter would know the spell Appleby Arrows fans used to use to summon those arrows. A loud crashing sound came from the living room then, followed by what sounded like the thump of a body hitting the floor, meaning that Hermione had presumably taken down a target as well.

A series of flickering lights from the living room meant there were still more enemies there that Ron and Hermione had now engaged. Harry moved quickly towards the hallway door, and took a peak down the hall. He immediately ducked back into the kitchen as a spell shot by. Thinking quickly, he decided to try out a spell he'd researched one day in the library after reading Quidditch through the Ages.

"_Genua Ostendo!" _he yelled, shooting the spell down the hallway. Two loud cracks and a shriek of agony proved the spell had proven quite effective. The Death Eater hit the floor hard, having trouble standing as his knees had suddenly reversed, overwhelmed by the pain of the sudden, very unnatural, change.

He quickly shot a banishing charm at the now crippled Death Eater, throwing him back towards the front door. The Death Eater's head cracked hard against the hardwood doorframe, silencing his screams.

Suddenly Harry felt as though he'd been punched hard in the gut, and felt himself flying back into the kitchen, crashing down beside the overturned table. As he landed, he felt himself hit with a body bind.

He struggled against it vainly, as he watched a Death Eater approach, wand outstretched.

"_Crucio_!" Harry's eyes widened as white-hot pain burned through his body. The Death Eater kept it up for several seconds before stopping, and leaning down to whisper in Harry's ear.

"That's just a taste boy," the harsh voice whispered, "of what the Dark Lord has in store for you."

Harry fought hard, trying to break the body bind and finally, gloriously, he felt his right hand jerk free. He didn't have his wand, but his eyes caught sight of the table next to him...with the copy of the Daily Prophet still held in place by the knife he'd stabbed into it earlier.

Grabbing the knife, he wrenched it free of the table, reversed it, and stabbed it hard into the Death Eater's side. He watched dark eyes widen in pain behind the white mask as the Death Eater recoiled in pain. Snarling angrily, Harry broke the rest of the body bind, shoving the Death Eater off him, pulling the knife out as he did so, causing blood to spurt out onto him. The Death Eater lay on his back, gasping in pain, and clutching at the bleeding wound. Smirking, Harry knelt over him.

"That's just a taste, fool," he growled mockingly, "of what I have in store for your Dark Lord."

He held the knife up, then met the Death Eater's shocked gaze for a moment. Without blinking, without even a twitch of his blank facial expression, he stabbed downwards, embedding the knife in the Death Eater's stomach, then twisting and jerking it upwards.

The Death Eater coughed, blood speckling his lips, as his last, bubbling breath escaped him.

Harry rose, snatching up his wand as he turned towards the living room. Hermione was on the ground, bleeding from a cut on her leg, but otherwise unharmed. She wasn't looking at him though, instead, she was staring at the Death Eater who had his wand pointed at a disarmed Ron.

"Give me your wand bitch, or your boyfriend dies," the unknown Death Eater said angrily.

Luckily for Harry, the Death Eater was looking in the opposite direction, and didn't realize anyone was behind him until Harry's wand tip was resting against the back of his head.

For the third time of the night, Harry banished something. This time, it was the Death Eater's head.

A moment later, Hermione, wiping the blood from her face, looked from the headless corpse laying at Harry's feet to his face in shock.

She blinked.

"They taught us that spell in fourth year!" She muttered in disbelief at the carnage it had caused.

Harry nodded, looking down in surprise. He hadn't expected it to be quite so...gruesome.

"Ya," he replied, "Flitwick got lucky all Neville did was banish him around the room."

Ron suddenly shook his head vigorously, blood and brain matter flying from his hair.

"Whoa."

Harry laughed, before looking in confusion at a body on the ground. Moving over to it, he nudged it cautiously with his foot.

"What happened to this one? There's no marks on him at all," he asked.

Hermione coughed, smiling sheepishly.

"That was me. I wanted to see the level of detail one could manage with a conjuration."

Harry looked over at her, raising an eyebrow.

"What did you conjure?"

Hermione smiled.

"Water," she said, pausing for a moment to let that sink in. "In his lungs."

"So...you drowned him."

Hermione nodded. "He flopped around for a bit. I think he broke a lamp. Sorry."

"Harry," Ron said, from where he'd wandered into the hallway. He was busy looking at the body near the front door. More specifically, he was looking at the corpses' knees. "Please tell me you didn't take a leaf from Gertie Keddle?"

Harry smirked, while Hermione looked confused.

"Who's Gertie Keddle?" She asked.

"Quidditch Through the Ages, chapter three, page seven. She reversed someone's knees. Although, when I read the book for the first time when I was five, I don't think I imagined it being quite so...messy." Ron answered bluntly.

Hermione blinked again.

"Why is it when I ask you to study you whine and complain, but you have Quidditch Through the Freaking Ages memorized?" She asked aggrieved.

Harry and Ron shared a grin, before responding together.

"Priorities."

* * *

Outside the house, those who were watching smiled faintly at the by-play between the three. They'd just finished taking out enemies, and done so in a spectacularly brutal fashion, and were able to make jokes about it. Good. That meant they could handle what the future would bring them. 

"It's almost time," one said to the other.

"No," replied the second, as a clock within started to toll the midnight hour. "It _is _time."

* * *

Inside, the clock tolled midnight, and Harry froze, then slumped bonelessly to the ground. 

For as the clock struck midnight, Harry James Potter came of age in the eyes of the Old Magic, setting into motion a series of events that would rock the foundations of the world.

* * *

**AN: **This is just the start of a fic. I'll probably still spend more time on Chosen then this, but this gives me something to write when I'm stuck on Chosen. 

There will be a pairing in this fic. It's not gonna be Ginny like my others. I won't say who it will be though, cause that would give at least one thing away


	2. The Calm after the Storm

_Nothing says 'I love you' like a severed limb.  
_

**Chapter 2: The Calm after the Storm**

"What the fuck?" Ron exclaimed, scrambling across the room to Harry's side moments after he fell.

"Ow," Harry muttered, sitting up suddenly. "What the fuck indeed. Why does weird ass shit always happen to me?"

"What happened?" Hermione asked. "Did you faint?"

Harry glared at her for a moment.

"Men don't faint Hermione, we pass out," he replied insistently.

She nodded, "So . . . you fainted."

"Passed out!"

"Why?" Ron asked.

Harry glared at him for a second.

"If I knew, would I have said 'what the fuck?'" he asked rhetorically.

"Well...do you feel any different?" Ron asked, irritated.

"I feel-" he paused, and noticed both his friends' looks of eager anticipation, "hungry."

There was a noticeable pause.

"What? Its been hours since I ate."

Ron looked at him for a moment before turning to Hermione.

"Do we really need him for anything?" He asked in annoyance.

She nodded in reply, "Chosen one, remember?"

"Shit."

"Ya, I don't really feel different. Not as far as I can tell. Do I look different?" Harry asked, looking down at himself.

Ron studied him for a moment, before eyes widening as he looked just below Harry's face.

"Merlin! You have something hideous growing on your neck!" He exclaimed, taking a step back in horror.

Harry's hands flew to his throat and felt around in a panic for a moment, but found nothing.

"Oh wait," Ron said, smirking, "that's just your head."

"I hate you," Harry replied, glaring.

Just then, there was a fluttering of wings, and a brown post owl flew through where the front door had been. It flew around the room for a moment, no doubt searching for a place to land that wasn't covered in blood, then settled softly on the back of the couch.

Harry groaned softly. He recognized the writing on the outside of the envelope. He didn't take the owl's letter away, instead conjuring a parchment and quill and quickly scribbling down a note. Walking to the window, he glanced outside, confirming something, before scribbling a bit more down.

Ron and Hermione watched in silence as he walked into the hallway and around the corner, the Ministry owl flying after him, hooting in irritation. There was an unidentifiable tearing noise, and moments later the Ministry owl was flying back out the door, struggling to carry a large package.

Harry walked back into the living room smirking slightly, ministry letter still in hand.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked, before ducking as several more owls flew in. Harry was silent as he gathered the decent sized collection of letters, before sending the owls on their way.

"Underage magic warnings," he said, idly flipping through the stack he now held in his hand. "What do you think, am I expelled by the last one of these?"

Hermione laughed, before answering. "Probably. Do you care?"

Harry grinned, and dropped the letters onto the floor, before hitting the pile with an incendio.

"Guess not," Ron said laughing, "but what was that package the owl took back? I didn't think you had to reply to those letters."

"Hmm? Oh that? Nothing," Harry said with a mischievous grin that made his words doubtful. "Just a little present for them."

Hermione, now quite curious, walked to the entrance of the hallway, looking down to where Harry had been. She paused. She blinked. She looked back at Harry and blinked again.

"You're twisted," she said succinctly.

Harry laughed, nodding.

"That's entirely possible. Anyway, we should get going,"

"Where to?" Ron asked. "Diagon Alley? Get some money out of the bank, do some shopping, pick up whatever we'll need to fight the war?"

"You're joking right? What could we possibly get that we really need at Diagon Alley?" Harry asked loudly.

Ron shrugged sheepishly. "I dunno, some books on Dark Arts? Weapons of some sort? One of those fancy trunks with multiple compartments? Those are dead useful, they can store a lot of stuff and some even have training rooms."

"Right. Cause they sell lots of books on Dark Arts in Flourish and Blotts, and is there some weapons store there that I've not seen in the previous trips? Maybe one that stocks' magical swords or something that will let us chop up a Death Eater army in the blink of an eye, and will absorb spells cast at us?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"W-well . . . " Ron stuttered awkwardly.

"Of course there's not! Diagon Alley is a fucking shopping mall for families, not some black market weapon stockpile. Hermione! Quick, I need you to go to Diagon Alley and pick me up some napalm. You know what they say, fire solves everything."

Hermione laughed, "Sure thing Harry."

Ron blushed a bright red. "All right, all right, I was stupid. Shut it."

"No no," Harry said, wagging a finger. "I need a trunk too, said so yourself. Cause you know, I can't just magically shrink all my stuff and put it in my pocket. Thus, making said trunk obsolete. Also, when I said we needed to train, I did not mean in a goddamn trunk. I have standards, okay?"

"Okay! Okay!" Ron said, throwing up his hands. "I give up. Make fun of Ron time is over!"

Harry laughed and was about to reply when something caught his attention. He didn't even have enough time to blink in surprise when the small black bolt of power struck his chest, causing him to slide into unconsciousness. Seconds later, similar bolts struck Ron and Hermione, causing them to fall to the floor as well.

Two figures, hooded and cloaked, shimmered into view then, standing near the door. One was tall, broad-shouldered and no doubt very muscular. The other was shorter, and much thinner, but moved with a grace that couldn't be human.

"I thought the plan was to _ask_ them to come, not to kidnap them?" The thin one asked, her voice soft and smooth.

"Were we planning to let them say no?" The other replied, in an unnaturally deep, powerful voice.

"Of course not," the first answered.

"Then this just saves time," came the reply. "Call it punishment for them letting down their guard like that. Now, lets go."

With that, the larger one grabbed Hermione and threw her body over his shoulder effortlessly. He then strode over, grabbed up Ron, and vanished without any noise.

Shaking her head, the other bent down and grabbed the front of Harry's shirt, lifting him up by it with an ease that someone her size should not have been able to manage, before disappearing as well.

* * *

Mafalda Hopkirk's scream brought that night's auror guard on her floor running. Nymphadora Tonks slid to a halt in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office employee's desk. 

The woman was ghost-white, staring wide-eyed at something sitting in the middle of her desk. Tonks' blinked in shock, before snatching the letter that the terrified woman was clutching in her hands.

_Dear Mafalda Hopkirk,_

_Please find enclosed the severed head of the Death Eater who was the reason for the Diffindo spell you're threatening to expel me over. The Diffindo missed. The knife that followed it didn't._

_Please say 'hi' to Rufus for me! Thank you._

_Cheers!  
Harry James Potter_

_P.S. I can see a few more owls on the way, presumably for the rest of the spells.  
Do you want mementos from my other guests, or was this enough?_

Tonks lowered the letter slowly, looking over it at the head that sat on the ministry desk, staining the papers around it dark with blood.

After a moment of shock, as the situation slowly sank in, Tonks dropped the letter and ran for the nearest floo.

* * *

"Report Auror Tonks," Head Auror Gawain Robards demanded, being met by the pink haired Auror on the edge of the Dursley's lawn. 

"It's...messy sir," Tonks reported, in her capacity as first auror on the scene. "Looks like six Death Eaters, or what's left of em."

She led him, and the two of her fellow aurors accompanying him, to the front door. She stepped lightly over a twisted, blood soaked body.

"This one's been identified as Marcus Flint," she stated, kicking wrist to make the Dark Mark burned onto it visible. "Wand shows traces of one recent spell, a Blood Boiler."

Robards whistled, looking down the hallway at the dark burn where the curse had hit.

"Lucky no one got hit by that," he said.

Tonks nodded, "Yes sir. He appears to have died from blood loss. Not sure what was used on him, but whatever did that to his legs had to hurt."

"I bet," one of the other auror's muttered.

"That one over there," Tonks continued, pointing at the headless corpse up the hallway, "is the bottom half of our friend from the Ministry. Several Dark spells identified from his wand, haven't yet confirmed his identity. Apparently someone banished a knife into his throat."

"Efficient," Robards said, nodding.

"Moving into the living room-" Tonks said, leading the way. She was promptly interrupted when the aurors behind her caught sight of the bloody room.

"Merlin's ghost!" One of the aurors exclaimed, turning a little green. "What happened here?"

"Well, the intact body has a large amount of water in his lungs. Apparently someone conjured water in his lungs."

"Where the hell is that one's head?" Robards demanded, pointing.

"It's erm...around," Tonks said weakly, waving a hand weakly at the gore covered room.

Gawain Robards, Head of the Aurors, blinked.

"What sort of Dark Arts caused that?" He asked after a moment.

"That's just it sir," Tonks answered, "with the exception of our bloody and backwards friend in the hallway, the only spells that can be traced as having killed any of the Death Eaters were banishing and conjuring charms."

"You're saying someone banished that fellow's head?" Robards asked in shock.

"Yessir," Tonks replied simply.

Robards sighed, feeling a headache starting to come on.

"Alright, let's continue along shall we?" He asked.

Tonks nodded, moving over the headless corpse. Unfortunately, she stepped down on a particularly slippery piece of brain, which -not surprisingly- failed to provide a solid footing. She promptly felt her foot fly out from under her, taking her crashing to the floor.

"Ow," was all she could mutter, as she was helped to her feet by her fellows. She felt blood and who knew what else dripping from her back and hair, and shuddered violently before continuing into the kitchen.

"This one," she said, pointing downwards, "was, as you can see, struck by multiple conjured arrows."

"Someone's an Appleby Arrows fan," whispered one of the aurors to the other.

"We're still trying to identify him," Tonks finished.

Robards nodded, gesturing for Tonks to continue.

"Finally," Tonks said, gesturing to the last body, that lay in a pool of blood. "This one was stabbed to death. Wand shows traces of a bludgeoning curse, a body bind, and a crucio."

"You identify the body?" Robards asked, looking down at the corpse.

"Oh yes sir, unfortunately I did," she said, a hint of disgust touching her voice.

The Auror Head looked at her for a moment, before using his foot to roll the body over, and then kick off the mask. An angry look crossed his face then, and he spat on the body in disgust.

"Fucking traitor," Tonks muttered, glaring in anger at the body of her -former- comrade, Auror Dawlish. Her boss could only nod in agreement.

* * *

**AN: Short chappie, I know, but seemed the logical end point. While there was a bit of parody going on in this chappie, that won't be the theme of the fic, that was just a one time hit. **

**Oh, also, I've had some question, so in answer to them, this will not be slash, cause I won't write slash. There will be a pairing, and with a canon character, but it won't be Hermione or Ginny, and it won't really start up for a bit.**

**Part of the reason for the latter part of the chapter was to establish that while most of the ministry is fucking retards, there are a few who are reasonable people.** **Robards obviously I have nothing canon-wise to base him off of, so I'm just making him up as a decent fellow.**


	3. Sealed in Stone

"_Slow and steady may not always win the race,_

_but at least it doesn't end up splattered on the walls."_

**Chapter 3: Sealed in Stone**

Harry sat up abruptly. Blinking furiously, he tried to rub his eyes, but quickly discovered why he couldn't; his hands were tied behind his back.

He looked over to his right, and found Hermione next to him, slowly waking as well.

"Hermione, you alright?" He asked.

"Ya, as far as I can tell," she responded after a moment.

Nodding, Harry leaned over to look the other way. Sure enough, there was Ron, though he looked to still be out cold.

"Ron?" Harry asked loudly.

Ron let out a mutter, and rolled to the side, before going silent again.

Harry blinked, then turned back to Hermione.

"He's asleep," he said plainly.

Hermione sat up, looking past him to get a view of the slumbering Ron.

"Give him a kick then," she said.

Nodding, Harry leaned back, and rolled halfway to Ron, then gave him a solid kick in the leg.

"Wha-what's going on?" Ron exclaimed, waking up fully.

"You're a git," came Harry's answer.

"Huh?" Ron sat up, "where are we? What happened?"

Harry looked around for an answer. There was a very dim light suffusing the area, though the source of it could not be seen. They were in what appeared to be a cave, judging by the rough stone of the walls, floor, and ceiling.

Except unlike most caves, this one didn't have an exit. Or at least, not one he could see.

"Umm...does anyone else see an exit?" He asked nervously.

Hermione looked around for a moment, before shaking her head.

"Nothing," she said finally.

"Wait," Ron said suddenly. "So your saying we're trapped in an air bubble in the middle of a bunch of rock?"

Harry took a breath, before nodding.

"Yup," he responded.

"I think now would be a bad time to develop claustrophobia, wouldn't it?" Ron asked dryly.

"Probably," Hermione answered.

"Bugger," Ron said after a moment, "too late."

"Alright," Harry said, struggling to get to his feet. "Plan A, try and find a way out."

"What's plan B?" Hermione asked curiously.

Harry looked around for a moment, before shrugging.

"Erm...die of starvation?" He asked glibly.

"Harry," Ron began dryly, "I prefer Plan A."

"Ya," Harry responded, "so do I."

He walked over to the nearest wall and kicked it. It hurt. 'Right,' he thought to himself, 'that part's solid rock.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, sharing a look that obviously said 'Harry's lost it.'

"Check for a fake wall, or illusion, or hollow sound. Anything," He ordered, moving a few feet over and giving the wall another kick.

"Right," Ron said, suddenly understanding. He moved over to where Harry had began, and started kicking in the opposite direction.

"You two honestly think you're going to find anything by _kicking _ the wall?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Have you got a better idea?" Harry asked, giving a grumpy kick at a rock that seemed to look suspiciously like Snape's head. Oddly, there seemed to have been quite a few of those particular rocks. "Unless you want to try and apparate out?"

"Harry, you know perfectly well that we can't apparate from here since we don't know where here _is_." Hermione responded.

"Right," Harry replied, "So start kicking."

"I think I'll just watch, thanks." Hermione said snidely.

"Fine, when we find the way out, you can stay behind." Ron added.

"You're not going to kick your way to a way out!" Hermione yelled, hands fisted at her side as she glared at the two young men.

"What do you suggest then?" Harry asked, turning away from the wall. Ron paused in his kicking as well, turning to look at the witch. By that point, the boys had gone most of the way around the cave.

"I don't know," Hermione said glumly. "We need magic to get out, and we can't do magic without our wands."

"You wizard-kind are such fools," came a deep voice, which caused three of them to jump in surprise. Harry blinked as a familiar pair of figures shimmered into view between the three of them. He could only assume that they were the same ones that had abducted them.

"What? Who are you? Where are we? Why did you abduct us?" Ron asked in a rush.

"We abducted you because our Mistress asked it. You will understand in time. Know though, that we mean you no ill." the smaller of the two replied in a feminine voice.. "As for who we are, we are Her servants. Her children."

"Why do you call us fools?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because you _are_ fools," came the deep voice again. "You think you are the masters, and magic the slave. You believe that magic is yours to command, and that you are something extraordinarily special to have the ability to control it ... how very wrong you are. You believe you need a wand to use magic? Wands are nothing more then a tool, a crutch for making the channelling of power easier for those who's connection are weaker."

"Who is she?" Hermione inquired. "Who is your Mistress?"

"No more questions," the large one stated. "You want answers, then come find us when you figure out how to get out of here."

"What?" Ron yelled angrily. "How are we supposed to get out of here?"

"We've already given you the key," the slim figure stated. "Now you must understand it."

With that, the two figures turned and walked casually through the stone of the cave; the stone of the small stretch of wall that had not yet gotten the Potter-Patented Kick Test. The wall shimmered briefly as they moved through it, before settling. Moments later, the ropes binding their hands unknotted themselves, and fell to the ground.

"Ha!" Ron exclaimed, looking triumphantly at Hermione. "And you said kicking at the walls wouldn't have found the way out!"

"Ron, wait!" Hermione started to reply, but was too late, as Ron leapt for the space of rock that had so recently permitted passage to their captors.

Ron's expression of victory was replaced by one of shock, then pain, as he slammed into the solid rock face. Moments later, he slumped against the rocks, blood flowing freely from his broken nose.

"Ow, dat 'urt," he muttered, wiping at the blood.

* * *

"So, it would seem Potter has it in him to kill after all," Voldemort hissed, grinning savagely. He waved a hand dismissively, and the Death Eater spy who had brought the report from the Ministry bowed and hurried away.

The Dark Lord drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, pondering the new occurrence. The loss of his auror spy didn't really concern him, he had others. The fool had failed, and if he had returned, the Dark Lord would have made his death more painful by far then the fate he had suffered at Potter's hands.

What concerned him was Potter himself. He'd possessed the boy. He knew the way he thought, felt. The Potter boy would never have been able to bring himself to stab an enemy to death. Not in the painful, cruel way he had.

Something had changed within his young enemy, the Dark Lord knew. Something had taken him from a boy who was hardly worth considering as a threat, to a man who would have no qualms against killing his enemies. Something very abrupt, something unpredictable. Something unnatural.

This thought, combined with the fact that he was completely unable to sense the boy's mind, had the Dark Lord intrigued. Perhaps the boy would finally be someone worth killing, instead of all these pests that were hardly worth his time.

"_Nagini," _ he hissed, and the snake emerged from the hollow beneath his throne, slithering out onto the floor before him, to await his command. _"Find the Worm, and bring him to me. I have a task for him."_

* * *

"Moody," Tonks said, drawing the tough ex-Auror's attention for a moment. She jerked her head towards the hallway, and Moody nodded, following her out. The Order of the Phoenix meeting was about to begin, but she wanted to talk to the former auror, who'd been chosen as new their new leader, before the meeting was started.

"What Tonks?" Moody rasped, as soon as the door to the meeting room was shut.

"We finally identified all the bodies just before I left," Tonks said, then yawned widely. "Sorry, been a long night."

"Well?" Moody asked urgently.

"Diggle wasn't one of them. Which mean's he's either captured, disposed of, or was a traitor."

Moody nodded, growling slightly in irritation.

"The fact that we got no warning from him at all makes me suspect the later," the older man grumbled. "Alright, good. Let's get this meeting started."

"Oh joy!" The metamorphmagus said sarcastically.

Moody smirked in appreciation at the comment, then led the way back into the meeting room.

Tonks hurried to her seat as Moody called the meeting of the Order to order. Tonks repressed a laugh. She knew it was silly, but that always made her laugh.

"Alright," Moody growled, "last night was rather eventful from what I've heard, so why don't we let Tonks report on it. Yes Molly, I know your son and Ms. Granger were missing this morning, but I'm fairly certain Tonks' report will have the reason why."

Molly Weasley, who'd started to speak halfway through, sat down, looking urgently at the young female auror.

Tonks stood, nodding to herself briefly as the new information from Ms. Weasley fit with what the reports from the scene had said.

"At just before midnight last night, Death Eater's attacked Privet Drive," she said bluntly. An explosion of questions and more questions drowned out any chance she would have had at continuing. She glanced at Moody, the request visible in her eyes.

"SILENCE!" The man's gruff voice yelled, and the Order did almost instantly, those who'd risen to their feet sitting back down quickly.

"Diggle was on guard-duty last night," Moody continued, at a quieter volume. "We received no warning from him, nor have we heard from him since, so until further notice, if you encounter him, you assume he's an enemy and bring him in for questioning. We can't take any chances."

Muttering broke out amongst the Order, and Tonks' rolled her eyes briefly. Honestly, they were like children sometimes.

"What happened to Harry?" Arthur Weasley asked.

"As I was saying," Tonks said after the mutterings settled, and their attention was back on her. "Last night, six Death Eater's attacked Privet Drive. Judging by the spell traces we found in the area, Harry was not alone in fighting them off. I think it's fairly safe to assume that the other two were Ron and Hermione."

"What happened to my baby?" Molly demanded. "Are they okay? Are they hurt? Where are they?"

"Unfortunately we don't know. They weren't there by the time I arrived, and I was first auror on the scene."

Molly wailed, leaning against her husband's arm. Arthur himself paled in dread.

"Then they were captured?" He asked in a hushed tone.

"We don't know. We don't think so, not by the Death Eater's anyway. None of _them _ survived." Tonks reported. "All six of the death eater's were found dead at the scene."

"What?" Minerva McGonagall, who some had argued should have taken Dumbledore's place as leader, but declined, asked.

Tonks nodded, continuing. "All six were killed, and all by our three. They didn't show mercy either. They were taken down hard."

"But," Mrs. Weasley began, "how do you know they weren't captured? There may have been more Death Eaters there."

"Unlikely," Tonks said, and here she looked rather uncomfortable. "Harry received several owls from the Ministry, in regards to his underage magic. We got a reply back. One that makes it blatantly clear that they took the Death Eater's down, and were acting on their own afterwards."

"What was the reply?" George -or Fred? Tonks was never sure- asked, an eager look on his face.

"You don't want to know," Tonks said bluntly.

"Oh yes we do," the other twin said, practically bouncing in his seat.

"Well, too bad, I'm not going to tell you." Tonks replied. "Suffice to say, we're almost one hundred percent certain they weren't captured by Death Eaters."

"Then where are they?" McGonagall asked.

"That, we have no idea," Tonks said, shrugging her shoulders in defeat.

* * *

"Alright," Harry said, eying the wall, "so we've at least established that running _into_ the wall isn't going to work. Thanks Ron, well done."

Ron's only response was a single finger.

"So, with that no longer an option, " Harry continued, "any other ideas?"

Hermione leaned her head back against the rock wall, eyes closed in thought. Harry paced around the room, tossing a small stone up and down in his hand.

Ron spent the time gingerly poking and prodding at his bloody and painful nose.

"She said they'd given us the key," Harry said after a long period of silence had passed. "What do you suppose she meant? A physical key? Some sort of clue they left about how to get out?"

"That's ridiculous," Hermione said, looking up at him. "They didn't leave anything behind. We'd have seen if they'd dropped something or given us a clue-"

"What if it wasn't a physical thing at all?" Ron asked, wiping away more blood from his face, and frowning at his hand. "What was it they said about magic? That a wand is only a means of making it easier to channel magic?"

"So, what? Wandless magic?" Hermione asked. "I thought that, but really, none of us can do it. Dumbledore himself could only handle the most simple of magic without his wand."

"No, I think he's right," Harry said. "Listen, what do you feel when you cast through your wand?"

"Magic flowing through the wand and out," Ron answered.

"Right," Harry replied, nodding, tossing the stone in his hands faster now. "So where does that magic come from though? Inside us. Around us. The wands don't make the magic, they don't control the magic. They just...filter it. Condense it down to what we want to use."

"Interesting theory," Hermione said, fingers drumming against the stone floor beside her. "But if it was that easy, surely someone else would have thought that up a long time ago? I highly doubt we'd be the only ones to even consider it."

"No," Ron said, "But think about it. Before we're of age, children do magic, right? They don't have a wand when they do it, but they still do it. What changes when we turn eleven? Other then the fact that we're _given_ wands. We learn on an easier method, become used to it, so doing without our 'crutch' as they said...seems impossible."

"It's a proven fact that wizards and witches in dire situations have been known to be able to pull off feats of wandless magic. Some say its because of adrenalin amplifying their abilities, however temporarily," Harry said. "Most people would simply say that; "Oh, they only managed it because of the situation," but if they can do it then, why not again? Why not without the added stimulus?"

"Habit?" inserted Hermione, "years and years of society saying "It can't be done", and people believing it."

"Confidence," Harry said after a moment. "If you don't believe you can do it, you can't cast the spell right? So if you try hard enough, believe hard enough, you should be able to focus your magic without a wand right?"

"Theoretically, I suppose," Hermione replied.

"So what do we do?" Ron asked. "Believe we can wandlessly cast a Reducto into the wall to blast our way out?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "I think that's the other problem. In those dire situations when people use wandless magic, most of the time they aren't thinking of a specific spell they want to cast, just a general result they want. So a spell is coming at them, they're not thinking 'Protego', all they think is how they need a shield. Wands focus the magic with the spells we know. What if that is the big thing? When people try wandless magic, they are trying to...force the magic into a form we know, with the words we know, but maybe that form just doesn't work without a wand."

"So how do we make it work?" Ron asked.

Harry was thoughtful for a few moments, tossing the stone in his hand up and down, before stopping. He stared at the stone for a time, then looked at the other two again.

"The magic is in and around us. We don't need a wand to use it, its already there, it _wants_ to be used. When you use a wand, you feel the magic build in your hand briefly, then flow through the wand. So why would it be that it could _only_ flow through a wand. If flows through our hands _to _ the wand first doesn't it?"

"Ya," Ron answered. "It builds into the wand as you say the spell, then forms into the spell you want as it leaves the wand."

"Right," Harry said, nodding, rolling the stone in his hand a bit. "So if that is the case, I could, say, push the magic out through my hand with the idea of throwing this rock with enough power and force to blast through that wall, it could conceivably happen."

"Worth a shot mate," Ron said, nodding. Hermione watched with narrowed eyes, her lips moving silently as she considered what he'd said.

Harry nodded, and adjusted his grip on the rock, eyeing the wall through which their captors had walked. Taking a breath, he focussed all his thoughts on what he wanted to have happen, and then threw it as hard as he could.

The rock hit the far wall and the force of the impact broke a chip off the wall, but that's all that happened. The rock he had thrown clattered to the ground at the base of the wall, looking decidedly un-magical.

"Well, guess that didn't work," Harry said after a moment.

"Ya, though I think your rock had a better effect then my face," Ron said, smiling. "Guess wandless magic is out though."

"No," Hermione said suddenly, looking up at Harry. "No, I think you were onto something, you just made one mistake."

"Oh?" Harry asked.

"You were going into too much focus with the magic," She began, taking a deep breath. "You wanted it to fill the stone, then you wanted it to fly through the air with extra power, then you wanted it to destroy the wall. That just seems like...too much. You're using the rock as a vessel. As another tool, another crutch, to channel the magic. Why do you need the rock? Why not just throw the magic? Why even throw for that matter? Magic doesn't need to be thrown. Just focus the magic out of your hand and into that wall, and let it do the rest."

"Worth a shot," Harry said, shrugging, turning back towards the wall. He took a breath, then began trying to focus his magic, and make it work.

A few minutes later, Ron interrupted him.

"Uhh, mate? You're just standing there." He said pointedly.

Harry looked over at him and glared.

"Yes, I knew that, thank you. This is harder then it looks you know." He said sharply.

"Alright, alright," Ron said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough. I'm just saying, you were having more luck with your rock is all."

"I hate you," Harry said, then went back to focussing on the wall.

A few moments later, he stopped, and marched over and picked up the rock he'd thrown earlier.

"Dammit, Ron's right," Harry said angrily, "I was making more progress with this damn rock then I am right now."

"Harry, calm down," Hermione said gently, "You can't expect to get it right away."

"Screw that Hermione," Harry said back, walking angrily around the room. "I'm tired. I'm hungry, and I - do - not - want - to - be - here - anymore!"

As he said the last word, he spun, throwing the rock again as hard as he could at the wall. Or at least, he released the rock from his hand. He couldn't really tell for sure, but it looked to vanish before it had gone very far, lost in the mass of red light that flew from his hand and slammed into the wall opposite them, blasting the rock apart and showering them all in dust and pebbles.

A few moments passed as Harry blinked away the dust in his eyes.

"Or maybe you just have to really want it," Hermione said, blinking at the large hole in the stone of their prison.

"And be very pissed off," Ron added, pushing to his feet. He looked like a ghost, covered in grey dust from the wall.

Harry spat, and a cloud of dust flew from his mouth. He nodded.

"Oh yes, anger serves as a great method of channelling when you're still learning," came the recognizable female voice of one of their captors, as the familiar pair strode through the hole in the wall. "Don't worry though, you'll soon learn to manage it without needing to be 'very pissed off.'"

This time, both had their hoods down, and they got a good view of their faces. The female was pale, but with an elegance to her features that Harry couldn't deny was attractive. She smiled, and a pair of delicate looking fangs were visible. The way she moved, as she strode over to them, and raised a pale hand to Ron's broken nose, was smooth and lithesome. Her hand glowed with a pale light and Ron felt a brief numbness, then nothing, as his nose was healed.

"There," she said, and her voice seemed gentler, softer, "all better." She smiled again, then stepped back.

The taller figure stepped forward and Harry blinked nervously as golden eyes gazed down upon him. He resisted an urge to step back, away from this imposing figure, but it wasn't simply because the other man towered over him. It was because the other man had a sheer presence that was so strong, so powerful, that he felt small and insignificant. Although there was something...odd about the way he walked. As though it was unnatural for him. It reminded Harry about the way Tonks had once mentioned she felt when not in her natural form.

"Come," the man said, his bronze skinned face looking at each in turn. "You're hungry, and tired, and we can certainly tend to those before we deal with anything else."

The two turned and headed back for the exit.

"Wait," Harry said, finally finding his voice. "Who are you? What are you?"

They both paused, and the man turned back around.

"Who we are, is servants of our Mistress. What we are..is some of her eldest children." He told them.

"Who's your Mistress?" Harry asked.

This time the female turned and answered.

"Our Mistress is Magic herself."

* * *

**Ya, I know. I suck at regular updating. I write when I want to, when its enjoyable for me. Sorry if it annoys people to not get regular updates at all, but oh well. If it really bugs ya, stop reading, its understandable.**


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